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If you’re a regular or semi-regular reader of mine, you’ll know that I have a profound dislike for most everything. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of things I like.

OK, so this pretty much encompasses all my “likes.”

Perhaps, television is both my favourite and most hated of life’s little staples. It’s a harsh mistress; dressing up for you all pretty like one moment, then pissing all over you the next. God knows I hate television networks. These wonder-tards are responsible for some of the worst decisions in entertainment history. Fuck it. I’m talking about FOX. FOX has been anally raping its viewership since the dawn of Married: With Children. Let’s check the score:

Although I can shake my fist and send human waste to FOX for the first two lists, there is no one to blame but the American people for the last. What the fuck is wrong with society? “But, Roode,” some of you are no doubt saying to your monitors like I give two shits, “if you don’t like these shows, don’t watch them.” If you’re one of the people who just said that, punch yourself in the kidneys as hard as you can. I’ll wait.

Or, have Batman do it.

The excruciatingly painful root canal of a problem is that these entertainment equivalents to eyeball AIDS don’t just stay on TV. They’re everywhere. They spill over into every other aspect of life: water cooler chat, trite morning show coverage, bullshit marketing shenanigans, and a host of other methods designed to shove this camel piss down your throat. For fuck’s sake, you half expect the doctor to give you a rectal exam with an official “GLEE” probe.

“Collect them all!”

Glee. Fucking Glee. Outside of “reality” shows, Glee has to be the prickliest cactus that has ever been shoved up my ass [figuratively, sickos]. It combines all the things I hate in life: singing, high school drama bullshit, singing about high school drama bullshit, hair styles from the 80’s, poser-hipster-geekdom, a Barbara Streisandwannabe, and all the douchebaggery contained therein.

And this goofy fuckstick.

Impossibly aggravating twirling paraplegic aside, I’m completely baffled as to how in the fuck this show became the runaway success it is. I guess it has all the ingredients of an asinine network TV show popular with the toothless public:

Alright, maybe most of that is superficial for a list of reasons why I hate this show more than a punch to the yam bag. But, it’s a goddamn TV show. What else do I need? It’s television cancer! The background music, itself, is enough to drive one into a murderous rage.

I tried to watch the show once [read: woke up on the couch while wife was watching it]. I timed myself. It was exactly one minute until I was filled with homicidal rage. It’s like fingers on a chalkboard. It’s not any ONE thing. It’s EVERYTHING. Individually, I’m pretty sure I could stomach each vomit inducing annoyance for an hour-long show. I hate singing in a television show, but I managed to put up with episodes of The Simpsons that shoe-horned musical sketches into the show. High school drama on TV makes me want to set fire to an orphanage, but I was able to sit through Veronica Mars.

Kristen Bell might have had something to do with that, though.

But, all those little annoyances in concert is like being hit with a bag of oranges. It’s a constant left-hook, right-hook combination. It’s one of the few situations when running headlong into a wall is the better of two evils. Take the hits too long and you’ll end up like Sylvester Stallone in Rocky V. No, not the Rocky character. I really mean Sylvester Stallone.

Poor bastard couldn’t tie his own shoes with help from Mr. T.

Glee has become oh so fashionable! Why, everyone who’s ANYONE wants to have their songs shit on, ham-fisted into a “plot” then have the very essence changed to discuss the problems of kids in wheelchairs not being able to get enough blond poontang.

Look, I just really fucking hate this kid.

Ah, that’s what FOX wants you to think. Every now and then an artist is able to withstand the evil and money to protect his work from being shat out the prime time sphincter. Who? Who dared defy the FOX gods and deny them their power and inefficient hybrids?

Dave MOTHER FUCKING Grohl!

Back in March of 2011, Dave declined to give the rights to his song, “Everlong.” [Read: Go fuck yourselves] Grohl feels that musicians shouldn’t feel pressured to bow down to Glee’s awesomeness and beg to give them any song out of their catalogue the studio wants. Check this:

Translation: Fuck you, Ryan Murphy, creator of Glee. Your shit absolutely DOES stink. Not only that, but we can see what you ate for lunch.

“Someone’s not eating enough roughage.”

But, I suppose Dave Grohl’s story isn’t indicative of the norm. Well, that would be true if Slash and Kings of Leon didn’t do the same damn thing and FLAT OUT REFUSED to let their music be a part of that bile gargling sing-com. I can only hope this becomes some sort of movement within the music industry that has musicians actually KNOW what their songs are being used for when they accept a fat check. Just say NO, Alice in Chains. JUST SAY NO!

Do these fuckers look like they WANT to have “Check My Brain” or “Man in a Box” used to sell toilet scrubbers, let alone be butchered on Glee? Layne Staley would come back from the grave and kick EVERYONE’S ass!

The ONLY redeemable decision this holocaust of a show ever made was just chance. Heather Morris was hired, originally, to work out the coreography for the mind numbing dance scenes. She worked with Beyoncé and knew a thing or two about choreography. It was her job to teach the cast of mouth breathers how to dance well enough for prime time television. I guess she did pretty well, because they ended up hiring her to play Brittany Pierce in a recurring role. In the second season she was made a full cast member. I wish I understood why.